


City Lights

by noirchime



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Minor Alphys/Undyne, Slow Build, Trans Mettaton, mettasans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-26
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-03 13:31:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5292911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noirchime/pseuds/noirchime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-pacifist/true pacifist route. When Papyrus’ new career as a basketball player takes off, he and Sans are forced to move to the big city. Deciding to make use of his time, Sans gets a job at a café not far from the Overworld sensation Mettaton’s hotel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Interview

Sans groggily opened an eye as he felt something prod him, swatting it away and rolling over.  
“Ngh.. not now..” he groaned.  
“SANS!!” Papyrus yelled, lifting up his younger brother with ease and placing him atop his broad shoulders.  
“You have that job interview today, so make sure you’re not late!” he prompted, tossing some clothes onto Sans’ bed (which looked more like a jumbled disarray of blankets and sheets).  
Sans stared with disgust at the clean dress shirt and long pants his brother had chosen.  
“Bro.. really?” he replied sluggishly, nestling into Papyrus’ long scarf.  
“SANS I SWEAR IF YOU FAIL THIS INTERVIEW!” Papyrus yelled, lifting Sans out of the folds of his scarf.

The older skeleton stared down at Sans with worry, but eventually left him to change.  
“Sans, I have extra training today, so.. try not to burn the house down while I’m gone.”  
Sans moved to add that Papyrus was far more likely to do so, but instead yawned and shuffled back into his room.  
“Ok bro. Have a _ball_.”  
“SANS!!”

Once Sans had reluctantly left the house, he had resolved to wear his usual jacket over the clothes Papyrus had picked out. There was _no way_ he was gonna be seen in long pants. No sooner had he stepped out of their home, had many humans turned to point and stare.  
“Mommy, look! It’s a _monster_!”  
“What _is_ that?”  
Sans just sighed and kept moving. Most monsters had become accustomed to the constant stares of onlooking humans.

As he entered the coffee shop, a small chime attached to the door signalled his arrival. Looking inside, Sans could see that the place was busy, but not too crowded as so to be chaotic. People and monsters alike chatted over coffees and pastries, some focused on work while others just enjoyed each other’s company. Making his way to the counter, he had to stretch up to see over the bench. But to his disdain, all the employees had gone into the kitchen. Once again straining to see over the marble-topped bench, he gave up and just stood there waiting.  
Sans jumped involuntarily as he felt a presence looming over him. He could immediately smell... bubblegum?  
“Need some help, darling?” a voice cooed playfully. Before Sans could turn to see _who the fuck_ had just called him ‘darling’, a metal arm snaked around his middle and lifted him up, giving him a good view of the space behind the counter.  
“Yeah, thanks, bud, but I can see fine.” he grumbled, hardly bothering to look at whomever had just picked him up.  
“Oh, is that so?” the voice laughed, setting Sans down on the ground.  
Before he lost his shit, Sans turned and faced the source of the voice.  
He felt his face flush blue as he studied the robot before him. Standing at almost 6’4, he towered over Sans. He had deep magenta eyes, and dark raven hair that glistened in the light. One side of his face was covered by his hair, and he wore a flamboyant pink fur coat accompanied by bright pink boots. On a normal person, it would have looked horrendous, but on him it just looked.. fabulous. Sans flushed an even deeper shade as he felt the robot checking him out, in his unruly state of morning sluggishness. Looking up at the robot, he saw that he had on the most devious smirk, and resolved to turn away in his state of vulnerability.  
“Oh, darling, I do apologise for this. But I hardly meet anyone with a charm quite like yours. May I ask your name?”  
Sans just sweatdropped and stared at him. This pink.. _thing_ wanted his name?  
“L-look, sorry dude, but I’ve got an interview, so I really gotta go,” he mumbled, eluding the robot’s gaze.  
“Well, good luck sweetie. I’ll be right here,” he added with a wink.  
Christ, Sans thought. _How could anyone be so flirtatious?_  
A nervous looking employee approached the pair, and cleared her throat.  
“Um.. is a Mr. Sans among you? He is ready to be interviewed,” she asked nervously, more focused on the robot beside him than Sans. Her state of infatuation was obvious as Mettaton turned to face her.  
“Oh, but of course! Knock ‘em dead, darling!” he said cheerfully, pushing Sans towards her.

The employee let out a small squeal before leading Sans behind the counter and into a walkway.  
“Sorry for reacting like that. We often get big stars in here, but Mettaton? Oh my gosh!” she exclaimed breathlessly, brushing a strand of dark hair from her eyes. Sans just stared at her. He for one did not see much in that big pink what’s-his-name. Or did he?

“Um… in here. The boss is waiting.” She prompted, leading Sans into a small office.  
As soon as Sans had sat down, she closed the door and walked away. Sans shuffled nervously in his seat. He had a perfect view of the café from the office due to a large window opposite him. The robot was still there, sipping a cup of coffee as he adjusted his coat.  
As the chair in front of him spun around, he could see a very tired-looking human woman sitting there, making notes on a clipboard.  
“Welcome to our coffee shop. I’m Diana. And you must be Sans?”  
It took a moment before Sans realised that she had spoken, still gazing out at the customers.  
“Uh, yeah. I’m Sans,” he replied hastily, shifting awkwardly. He felt his face flush as the robot from before caught his gaze, giving him a sly wink.  
“..Okay. Tell me a little bit about yourself, Sans.”  
“robot…flirTING!” he yelped, receiving an odd look from the woman.  
“Uh, what I meant was- “  
The robot just flashed him a grin, and Sans felt his knees wobble.  
The woman began furiously scribbling something down on her clipboard.

The rest of the interview went by like a breeze, the robot giving Sans suggestive looks and gestures and Sans in turn giving the interviewee flustered answers- or none at all. Before long, Sans found himself back out in the hall, being denied a position as a waiter. He needed to have a chat with that robot.

As soon as he was released by his interviewee (who had hastily assured him that she would “carefully consider his application”), Sans made his way over to the table where the robot had once sat. To his irritation, all he found was a to-go coffee cup, sitting atop the table. In his frustration, the skeleton stepped back in one awkward movement, and to his horror knocked over the still-hot cup of coffee. Sans winced as he felt the coffee seep through his jacket, recoiling at the burning sensation of the liquid. He attempted to turn away after cleaning up most of the mess, but let out a muffled yelp as his skull collided directly with a metal torso.  
“What are you doing here..?” Sans grumbled, hoping he wouldn’t be dragged into another conversation. The robot flashed him an innocent smile.  
“Why, returning to my coffee of course. Since I may have.. disrupted your interview, I decided to make it up to you. I talked to the owners and used some of my influence to explain the situation. It’s all taken care of, darling.”

Sans stared at him.  
“Who are you?”  
Mettaton just laughed mellifluously.  
“Why, I’m almost offended. I am Mettaton, and you’ll most likely be seeing me on my channel tonight! Toodles!”


	2. Celebration

As Sans trudged home in the muddy sleet that was his street, he found himself once again thinking of Mettaton. He was still confused as to why he, in all his self-obsessed glory, just had to throw himself at the management to help him. Sans knew that he wasn’t exactly someone people wanted to go out of their way to help. His life had seemed like an endless loop until Frisk had brought the monsters to the surface. Even now that events were free to happen without being replayed over and over, Sans felt as if he was the one stuck in a loop. His brother had thrived in the human-monster world, earning himself a promising career as a professional athlete (when being a guard and human hunter didn’t exactly work out). Chuckling to himself, he thought of his brother, who was most likely training for his next big game.

Now reaching the porch of his and Papyrus’ house, he gave the peeling wooden door a knock. Almost immediately, Sans heard the sound of crashing pots and pans in the kitchen, and assumed his brother was home. He waited until his brother reached the end of the hall, and finally gave a nervous grin as Papyrus poked his head out from behind the door.  
“Sans!” he called cheerfully, beckoning his brother inside. Sans followed Papyrus into their dining room, where he then collapsed into the comfort of a chair.  
“SO.. Sans, how did the interview go?” Papyrus asked, tipping spaghetti into a bowl.  
Sans shifted nervously.  
“Uh, well I got the job.”  
“EXCELLENT! GOOD THING I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, COOKED SPAGHETTI IN CELEBRATION OF YOUR NEW JOB!” Papyrus proclaimed, now presenting two heaping bowls of spaghetti and setting them down.  
“How was training?”  
Papyrus thought for a moment and then answered.  
“We had speed trials- and of course, I came out on top.”  
“That’s great, Papyrus. I guess you could say they worked you _to the bone!_ ”  
Papyrus stared at Sans for a solid second.  
“OH. MY. GOD.”

Sans grinned, and took the opportunity to quickly shove the rest of his spaghetti into his pockets.

“Thanks for the dinner, bro.”

Once they had washed the dishes, Sans found Papyrus on the couch, his long legs hanging over the side of the armrest.  
“Brother! You didn’t tell me about your interview.”  
Thinking back to the tedious events of the day, Sans retreated further into his hoodie.  
“It.. didn’t exactly go too well. But this robot guy sorta helped me out, and I ended up getting the job.”

Papyrus gave him an apprehensive look, but then smiled.  
“WELL, SANS, THERE’S THIS ROBOT GUY ON TELEVISION I THINK YOU’LL REALLY LIKE!”  
When Sans returned his offer with a grimace, Papyrus just grinned.  
“YOU’LL LOVE IT! This is the new MTT-channel game show that aired just yesterday!” he explained, flicking on the TV.

As the show’s theme started, Sans was reminded of a tune he’d heard somewhere. He didn’t really listen to anything like that, so he assumed he’d heard it from someone else.  
“Hey Papyrus.. which song is this again?”  
“Only Death By Glamour, Mettaton’s most famous theme!” he boasted gleefully.  
Sans let out an audible groan of displeasure as he recalled the origin of the tune.  
He had no idea that the robot he met in the café was into the same shows as Papyrus... or that he would go around humming it like some sort of walking advertisement.  
Sans sighed as the theme finished and the game show commenced, trying to find a point to focus on that wasn’t an explosive display of glitter, smoke machines and stage lights.  
From out of the smoke, a tall figure emerged, holding a bedazzled microphone.  
“Welcome, darlings, to MTT-channel’s brand new show!” he cheered, striking a pose.  
Sans stared at the screen in utter shock. He had always thought that Mettaton was more… rectangular than that? Surely the star he had met in the café couldn’t be him. His question was answered as he remembered that Mettaton had told him that he was on TV that night. No wonder he’d had so much influence over the owners of the coffee shop.  
Sans jumped in shock as he felt Papyrus’ hand on his shoulder.  
“Sans? Are you alright?” Papyrus asked, turning to face his brother.  
“Yeah bro… I’m good,” he lied, hoping and praying that he wouldn’t notice his increasingly blue blush.  
Papyrus lifted him up and squeezed Sans in a tight hug.  
“Brother… whatever is bothering you… it’s alright. Don’t be upset!”  
Sans just laughed, and without a second thought hugged Papyrus back.

Once Papyrus had retreated to his room to do who knows what on the internet, Sans settled back down into the couch. He didn’t know why, but he reached for the remote and flicked through the channels until he found the smiling face of Mettaton greeting him.  
It wasn’t often that Sans found a show genuinely interesting. But as Mettaton paraded around the stage, commentating and asking contestants questions, Sans found himself smiling fondly.  
He watched until the very end, and waited until the end credits rolled to switch off the TV. For what seemed an eternity, Sans laid on the couch, still processing what had just happened. It wasn’t until he saw his reflection in the dark screen of the TV that he realised he was still blushing. Why did watching that ridiculous show make him feel so happy?  
“Damn you,” Sans groaned, nestling into the couch. Within moments he spiralled into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is almost done, so I thought I'd take this opportunity to thank you.
> 
> The positivity I've received after posting this was amazing! So thank you to anyone who commented or left kudos.
> 
> I have a basic plan of the next few chapters set out, so I hope you guys enjoy them!
> 
> \- noirchime
> 
> I also have a tumblr where I mostly reblog Mettasans stuff?? If anyone wants to follow I go by the same name there.


	3. Gentle

Even if his brother had cooked dinner at home, Sans always found himself heading to Grillby’s. Since the monsters had been freed from their underground prison, Grillby had opened up shop in an old restaurant in the heart of the city. Even though they had been separated when they moved, the same loyal customers found themselves returning to the diner. It wasn’t the people, or the food, or even the owner, Grillby that called Sans back to the diner. It was the mere solitude it offered him, the space he had to be alone with his thoughts. Every night, he walked in, and every night he found himself at the same barstool, thinking.

As he made his way up the street, he felt someone shove past him, sending him stumbling sideways. He glanced around to see an overexcited teen rushing past him towards a crowd up ahead. Sans raised an eyebrow.

Nearing the crowd, he realised that they were not just a crowd- they were definitely crowding around something- or someone.

“Oh my god, Mettaton! Sign my face!” one squealed, waving a marker in the air.  
“Can you believe Mettaton was around a place like this?” one exclaimed, snapping a photo.

Sans flinched as the bright flash of several cameras illuminated the street, pulling his hoodie over his head to avoid being blinded. He edged past the crowd, knowing that only Mettaton would be followed so intently by his fans.

Suddenly, Mettaton began walking, and the crowd moved to follow him. Sans was shoved to the side, and he found himself trapped among the crowd.

He felt his usual smile disfigure in revulsion as the crowd fought past each other in an attempt to get to Mettaton, while the star himself lavished in the extra attention.

When the crowd had finally cleared, the sun had begun to set, still an extraordinary sight for a monster such as himself. The pastel sky was dashed with brilliant shades of orange and magenta, contrasting against the dull grey of the city.

“Oh, look at the sky!” Mettaton called dramatically, turning from his fans to the sunset.  
“Thank you very much for your time today, darlings, but I must be on my way.” He sighed, stepping away from the crowd.

Reluctantly, the crowd let him pass, and began to scatter into the street.

_Finally,_ Sans thought. _I can go to Grillby's._

Edging past a group of squealing teenagers, he made his way onto a side street. For a moment, there was quiet, until the unmistakable sound of sobbing reached his ears.

Eyes darting around in search of the voice, he picked up pace until he could see Grillby’s only a few buildings away.

To Sans’ shock, he saw the unmistakable form of Mettaton hurrying past on the main street, heading for a hunched figure sobbing into her jacket. Sans recognised her as one of the timider fans from the crowd.

Sitting himself down beside her, Mettaton reached for her hand, and gave her a concerned smile.

“Darling, what seems to be the matter? Are you alright?” he asked, leaning in.

The woman sighed, and her soft voice faltered for a moment before she spoke.  
“I-Oh, I’m so sorry you had to s-see me like this... W-well, I just found out that my car was stolen… And I have no way to get home tonight…” she explained, hugging her legs.

Sans could only describe Mettaton’s reaction as surprisingly genuine. His kindly magenta eyes meeting the woman’s, he took her hand, and with a reassuring smile wiped a tear from her face.

“Darling, you need not worry. I will drive you home myself. I assume your family would have been worried sick if you had been left to wander the city all night.”

With a muffled laugh, she hugged Mettaton, her tears now falling freely.  
“M-Mettaton… I can’t thank you enough for this.”

Mettaton only gave her a gentle smile, taking her hand to lead her to his waiting car.

Sans watched in wonderous admiration as the two figures disappeared into the fading sunlight, the woman’s sadness melting away in the generosity of Mettaton. He had never assumed someone so flamboyant, so self-absorbed… could be so gentle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise for the time this chapter took to upload.
> 
> I've been working hard to correct any spacing mistakes or italic/bold issues in the previous chapters, so please tell me if I missed anything!
> 
> If you'd like to see updates/art/Mettasans then you might want to follow me on tumblr, where I go by the same name as on here. URL: http://noirchime.tumblr.com


	4. Façade

The following day, Papyrus had received a call from Toriel inviting him and Sans over for a small get-together. Papyrus, who took great pride in arriving on time, had practically dragged Sans off the couch and into his car.

Sans hardly remembered his brother’s words before he was strapped into the shotgun seat of Papyrus’ sleek sports car, where he was practically buffeted by the harsh gust of winter air that hit him square in the face as Papyrus revved the engine.

He turned to face Sans, who had resolved to pull his hood over his head in hopes of protecting himself from the icy wind.

“IT IS A GREAT DAY FOR A DRIVE, IS IT NOT?” Papyrus quirked cheerfully, ignoring the startled stares of humans who had turned around to the sound of his booming voice.

“Uh, yeah, Pap. It is.” Sans responded, closing his eyes. He felt something brush the side of his skull, and opened his eyesockets in alarm. He whipped his head around to find that Papyrus had bestowed him with a pair of dark sunglasses as well as donning a pair himself.

“These will help with the wind. Oh, and they make you look cooler too!” he explained, turning a corner into a quiet suburban street.

As the two pulled up to the house Sans assumed was Toriel’s, the small figure of Frisk came running from the porch. They were grinning excitedly, almost as if they had something to share.

“HELLO, HUMAN!” Papyrus greeted, parking his car before stepping out to lift them up. Frisk giggled, and waved to Sans, who was still sitting in the car.

“Hey, kiddo.” He said casually, giving the child his trademark grin.

He looked up to see that Toriel had followed Frisk out of the house, and waved in greeting.

“Hey, Tori.”

“Hello, Sans! Greetings, Papyrus! I trust you are here for the get-together Frisk and I have planned?”

“We are!” Papyrus confirmed giddily, before lifting Sans out of the car and locking it.

Sans was starting to get pretty sick of tall people picking him up.

As Papyrus set him down, Sans could see that Toriel and Frisk were not the only monsters who had come to greet them. Floating shyly behind Toriel was the translucent shape of a ghost, peeking out meekly to glance at Papyrus.

“HELLO, NAPSTABLOOK!” Papyrus called, bending down to talk to the timid ghost.

“o-oh.. hi papyrus..” Napstablook replied, seeming to turn even more translucent as the skeleton smiled at him.

“Is there anyone else to arrive, Toriel?” Papyrus asked, this time at a much more reasonable volume.

“Alphys and Undyne are inside. Do come in.” she prompted, ushering the three figures inside.

Sans fell into place behind his brother as they neared the house, and took a good look at the ghost following shyly after them.

“Hey, are you ok there bud?” he asked, noticing the tears falling from what would be their eyes. Napstablook just turned away, and to Sans’ shock darted away into the back garden.

“oh no…” Napstablook mumbled, tears leaving a trail in his wake.

Sans made to call them, but saw the others’ knowing expressions and stopped.

“It is alright, Sans, for Napstablook tends to be a little… sensitive.” Toriel explained, climbing the stairs to the porch.

“Perhaps you might offer some.. comfort to them in their current state?” Papyrus suggested, following Toriel and Frisk.

Frisk nodded and signed decisively.

“Go. We’ll be inside.”

Sans rounded the house and came to find the gate to the garden unlatched, despite Napstablook being able to float right through. He shrugged and approached the weeping figure of the ghost, who was face down in a pile of leaves.

“Hey there buddo. Sorry about what I said before.” Sans greeted, staring questionably at the ghost.

“oh… sorry…”

Sans gave him a kind smile before continuing.

“Hey.. why did the ghost get in the elevator?” he asked, not waiting for a response.  
“Because they wanted to _lift their spirits!_ ” he laughed, earning a practically inaudible laugh from Napstablook.

“oh.. that’s funny..” they whispered, letting a few tears fall before facing Sans.

“So, Napstablook was it? I recognise that name. Weren’t you on Mettaton’s show last night?”

Napstablook perked up slightly at the mention of their cousin, and floated closer to Sans.

“yeah… my cousin is really amazing.” They sighed, thinking of Mettaton.

“Your cousin? I didn’t realise you two were related,” Sans replied in disbelief, trying to somehow liken the ghost before him to the conceited star of the Underground.

Before long, the shy ghost had begun to tell him about the star, while Sans himself told stories of he and his brother’s many adventures. Every so often, Napstablook would shed a fresh round of tears, which Sans had begun to accept as normal.

At one point, he found himself lost in thought as he listened to Napstablook describe his cousin. Sans had assumed that the star had almost no concern for anyone other than himself, but listening to Napstablook’s accounts of his kindness had changed his opinion. Unbeknownst to himself, he was smiling fondly at the thought of the robot, picturing him onstage.

“i’m very sorry to bother you.. but um.. are you alright?” Napstablook asked, turning to face Sans.

Sans raised a bony finger to his skull, and with a shocked inhale of (supposedly unneeded) air realised that he was flushed a deep shade of blue.

“Uh, yes. Sorry, Napstablook.” He replied quickly, still quite not believing that he had been blushing at the though of Mettaton.

Before he could talk again, he felt a mitt on his shoulder that could only have been Papyrus. Man, he really needed to sharpen up if he hadn’t noticed _Papyrus_ come up behind him.

“Sans! Say goodbye to Napstablook, for it has sadly come time for us to depart! It is a shame you did not join us, as Toriel made us all cherry pie, and we watched one of those shows Alphys likes!”

“Oh. Yeah, shame.” He responded, following suite as his brother exited the garden.

“Bye, kid. Toriel, Alphys, Undyne, Napstablook, I’ll see ya round.” He called with a wave, getting into Papyrus’ car.

As they drove along the highway back to the city, Sans found himself admiring the sunset. It was truly a sight to behold, especially to monsters such as himself who had never seen the sun before they were freed. It dipped low behind a range of mountains in the far distance, brilliant streaks of yellow, orange and magenta flecking the sky. The sky seemed alive with colour, but most prominently displayed a loud pink that in particular caught Sans’ eye.

The mere colour had begun to remind Sans of Mettaton… who had so garishly adorned himself with it in all the times Sans had seen him.

He was snapped out of his thoughts as the skull of Papyrus came to rest on his shoulder. He raised an eyebrow (??) as he realised that his brother was grinning madly.

“Uh.. Papyrus…?” he asked concernedly, shifting slightly at the close proximity.

Papyrus winked at him. “Sans, I will always believe in you.”

After Sans just continued to stare at him in utter confusion, Papyrus sighed and turned his attention to the traffic.

“You are fully aware of what I mean. This person… whoever is on your mind, obviously makes you very happy. Sans, I haven’t seen your real smile in a long while.”

Looking up at his brother in awe, Sans’ mind was racing with thoughts. He had only met Mettaton a few days ago, and already people were starting to notice something was up. _I hardly know him,_ he argued stubbornly. _We’re not even friends._

He hadn’t realised that Papyrus was so easily able to read him. He had assumed he appeared unreadable, invulnerable, but above all content. It had never crossed his mind that his usually absentminded brother would be able to see straight through his façade.

He decided to go for the _humerus_ answer. 

“Thanks a ton, bro. A _skele_ -ton." 

Papyrus just grinned knowingly, and wrapped his free arm around Sans. 

The dim light of the fading sunset lit up their surroundings just enough for each brother to see the glowing warmth in each other’s eyes, each laughing at Sans’ horrible pun as they sped off into the night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt guilty for the late update, so here's the next chapter (which I wrote at approximately 3am last night)..
> 
> Frisk is so fun to write!!
> 
> If anyone has any requests or suggestions for this fic I'd appreciate your input.
> 
> I also have a tumblr, so if you'd like to see updates/art/Mettasans then you might want to follow. I go by the same name as on here. URL: http://noirchime.tumblr.com
> 
> \- noirchime


	5. Shelves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was unable to post this chapter as soon as it was written on account of being away.
> 
> On the other hand, I have the draft/rough plan for the next chapter all written out so expect another update very soon!
> 
> \- noirchime

After yet another exhausting day at the café (apparently making puns when taking orders wasn’t “acceptable”..), Sans was glad to be home. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy the job, but the usually-introverted skeleton simply wasn’t used to such a socially active lifestyle. Or hey, he might’ve just been lazy.

Brushing all thoughts of work aside, he made his way up the hallway and into his and Papyrus’ apartment, breathing a quiet sigh of relief as he saw that Papyrus wasn’t home. The less photographs of him in the scanty uniforms the café provided, the better. It was due time he took a moment to relax.

Sans was brought back to the present by the sharp trill of his mobile phone. _Probably Papyrus,_ he guessed.

He grinned knowingly as he read over the message, but groaned when he read the bottom. Undyne had invited Papyrus over to spend the night, but he hadn’t had a chance to go grocery shopping beforehand. Sans mentally cringed at the thought of wandering through a shop swarming with crowds of humans and monsters alike.

Slightly annoyed by Papyrus’ timing, Sans changed out of his work clothes and grabbed his phone from the bench. It was going to be a long afternoon.

Upon his (not so) dramatic arrival at the shopping centre, Sans had already received several pejorative glances from the humans around him. Clearly, not many of them had gotten used to the idea that monster lifestyles were often so similar to their own.

Brushing past the forms of other shoppers, he finally reached the shopping carts, and hastily grabbed one. It seemed Papyrus had given him a lot of items to buy.

-

After what seemed like hours of perpetual torment and difficulty finding common household items, Sans finally reached the last item on his list. His grin stretched wider as he read the text- they needed tomato ketchup.

Following the blatantly colourful signs posted up around the store, Sans found himself in the sauce aisle, only to find that the shelves were filled with other, less superior condiments. 

It seemed like the spinoff _MTT-brand All-Around Glamorous Kitchen_ range had been selling well. Unfortunately for Sans, this meant that the store was dangerously low on ketchup.

Finally, he spotted a bottle far up on one of the top shelves, seemingly miles out of his reach.

_"Damn you, MTT."_ He muttered, casting a reluctant glance at the shelf.  
He disliked using magic in public (interestingly enough, a trait he picked up from Papyrus) and so settled for trying to reach it physically.

Swiping in vain, his skeletal hand only reached about a quarter way up the lofty rack. Sans let out a defeated sigh and withdrew his hand reluctantly.

The sound of boots on tile interrupted his moment of strife, and Sans quickly decided to feign interest in an item near his eye-level.

He drew in a sharp breath as he felt hands grasp his sides and lift him up, and looked up to see the face of none other than Mettaton himself barely inches from his own.

He felt his cheeks warm as Mettaton’s eyes met his, and opened his mouth in disbelief.  
“M-Mettaton…?”

Mettaton just returned his look of shock with a sly wink.

“See something you like?”

“What are you, 15?” Sans chuckled, moving to twist out of Mettaton’s grip.

Before he could react, Mettaton stretched his robotic arms upwards (damn extendo arms..) and hoisted Sans up in his hands.

“Is this the right shelf?”

When Sans only gaped like a stunned idiot, Mettaton responded for him with a nonchalant shrug.

“It pays to be this tall, you know.” He remarked, leaning upwards a little as he spoke.

“What are you, three feet shorter?” Mettaton teased, imitating Sans with a playful grin.

“I’m 4ft, actually.” Sans huffed, crossing his arms defensively.

Mettaton laughed, and Sans found himself thinking how beautiful of a sound it was to hear someone so _staged_ react so genuinely.

“What were you looking for, anyway?”

Sans just grinned, and grabbed the bottle of ketchup he had so vainly sought after.

Opening the cap, he drank from it hungrily, facing Mettaton with a kind of crazed smile as he wiped the ketchup from his mouth.

For once, Mettaton had absolutely no idea what to say. He stared at Sans in disgust, still processing that that had actually happened.  
Studying Mettaton’s mortified expression, Sans realised with a jolt that he had got ketchup on him. He leant in close, Mettaton’s mad blushing going unnoticed by him as he wiped the sauce from his cheek.

“W-what are you doing?!” Mettaton gasped, feeling his internal system speed up rapidly.  
“I must’ve spilled it on you. Sorry.” Sans shrugged indifferently.

Mettaton huffed and uncoiled his arms from Sans, but didn’t set him down.

“Are you gonna do the arm thing every time you pick me up?” Sans asked pointedly.  
“..Do you mind..?”  
“Nah.”

Now more confused and flustered than ever before, Mettaton put Sans on his shoulders, against his better judgement.

“So what were you doing before I so graciously lent a hand?”  
“Playing baseball.”  
“Nah, I was just heading for the counter.” Sans joked, shrugging as Mettaton rolled his eyes.  
“Ah. Let’s go then.”

After being stopped several times so that Mettaton could shake a fan’s hand, they finally reached the checkout. To Sans’ surprise, Mettaton didn’t even move to put him down, and just casually talked to his fans as if it was _normal_ to have someone you’d just met weeks ago on your shoulders.

Behind the checkout they had been allocated, the human employee was shuffling around nervously, glancing up at Mettaton as if she had something to tell him. Sans noticed a strange expression on her cashier’s face, half-masked by a long strand of dark hair. He stared back in confusion until Mettaton bent down to put an item onto the counter and she hastily snapped a photo of them. Sans gave her a wary glare but she had gone back to scanning groceries.

Mettaton put Sans down to let him pay, and as Sans gave the cashier his card, walked over to put the groceries into bags before heading for the exit. Sans still couldn’t understand why Mettaton of all monsters had come to help him _buy groceries._.

As he approached Mettaton, Mettaton ushered him closer and leant down.  
“Ah, Sans.. we may have a slight problem on our hands.”  
We?  
“You see, a very famous robot like me is not often seen wandering a grocery store, and I’m afraid I may be bombarded with paparazzi upon my _glamorous exit._ Do you happen to know a side route?”

Sans just chuckled.  
“Well, I do know a _shortcut."_  
Mettaton nodded eagerly, synthetic hair bobbing as he moved. He looked around for a possible route.

Sans grabbed his hand abruptly, causing Mettaton to shiver involuntarily.  
“Ready? It’s kind of.. different.”

Before Mettaton could respond, Sans had dragged him through the shortcut. Mettaton felt as if his insides had been flipped over.

They arrived in front of the mutual road that lead to both Mettaton’s and Sans’ hotels.  
“Hey, Mettaton?”  
“Yes?”  
“Why exactly were you in that store anyway? You didn’t even buy anything.”  
Mettaton paused for a moment, and let out a dramatic sigh.  
“Well, I was supposed to be buying more of this powder I found the other day- but I got distracted.. I’ll just have to pick it up next time..” he sulked.  
Sans gave him a funny look and rolled his eyes.  
“Well, guess I’ll see ya round, Metta. Do you mind me calling you that?”  
Mettaton felt a blush creeping onto his face, and liften a gloved hand to his metallic cheek.  
“..Not at all..”  
“Oh! And before I forget, can I get your number?” Mettaton asked hurriedly, looking away.  
Sans just stared at him.  
“My.. number?”  
“Sure, buddy. Lemme get my phone.”

After exchanging numbers, the odd pair went their separate ways. Essentially, this was just Mettaton leaving Sans with a quick wave before disappearing into the night.

It might’ve been just his imagination, but Sans felt as if Mettaton was acting strange. Something about his bashfulness just didn’t seem natural to him. Even if he was confusing, and even if they did clash often, every time he’d seen the glambot had become a fond memory of his.

_Ah, well. Fuck it. Everything good always ends, right? Heh. Funny, that._

He had a lot of explaining to do to Papyrus.


End file.
